


Humble Beginnings

by clockworkgirl221



Series: The Communicator [4]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Backstory, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Questioning Sexuality, Sad Stories, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-03 19:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockworkgirl221/pseuds/clockworkgirl221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin gets sick. Calliope opens up to Douglas.</p>
<p>Or, how the familiar found her witch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Here's a three-parter mostly about Calliope. I should warn you that children are killed in this story, among other tragic things. But hey, every Disney story has a death in the family, so... yeah.
> 
> Also, this is pretty much backstory on Calliope and how she became Martin's particular familiar. Backstory was needed. Hope it all makes as much sense as it does to me.

PART ONE

Martin didn’t like to blame people. But Douglas did, and he was blaming a certain cabin boy for deciding that throwing a stick for Calli was something that wouldn’t make the cat’s tail twitch and make her attack the young steward, sans claws of course, and push him into a small river that had formed outside of the hangar after particularly nasty bout of winter rain and snow. Martin went in after both Calli and Arthur, and both humans got nasty colds. Martin’s was the only one that turned into a full fever, however, which was why the older sky god was blaming the young steward, but not completely hating him (no one can completely hate Arthur, if one was being honest).

“Look, Douglas, it’s really sweet of you to look after me, but I was doing fine on my own and—“

“Martin, shut up please and let your _friend_ take care of you!” Calli almost hissed.

Douglas, knowing that when Calliope Darkfur meowed or made any noises from her mouth toward the redheaded pilot that she was actually speaking words to him, spoke up after Calliope had finished: “I know that you like to be a Byronic hero, Martin, but this time I must intercede. You are _not_ fit to fly, and you are _not_ fit to take care of yourself, no matter what Family Legacy you happen to be from.”

“My mother will be here in the morning with a special concoction from Katie’s garden! I’ll be fine!” Martin said, but he was weakened considerably.

“Don’t try to be strong, Martin. Just sleep and let Douglas take care of you. He _wants_ to. He honestly doesn’t _have_ to but Goddess-bless-it, he _wants_ to,” Calliope meowed, stepping off the Communicator’s legs but not stepping completely off the bed.

Martin’s fever flush deepened, though the other human didn’t really chalk it up to embarrassment and attraction as Calliope and Martin did. Martin finally lay back in the bed, letting Calliope kneed her paws (sans claws) into her human’s chest to calm down both his fluttering heart and to soothe him into sleep.

“Th-Thank you, Douglas, Calliope,” Martin finally muttered as he closed his eyes.

Douglas shifted in the one chair Martin had as Martin’s breathing evened out and the fever put him straight into REM sleep. He watched as Martin’s familiar stepped off in her soothing kneading of Martin’s chest as she sat back on her haunches. Douglas suddenly felt out of place. Martin’s attic ‘apartment’ was really just a small room with a bed, a counter, and a chair. The counter really wasn’t much of a counter and probably served mostly as a desk, as Martin’s Book of Shadows and his other Pathway tools were resting there. Douglas wiped his hands on his thighs as he looked around. The silence was getting to him.

“Isn’t there a spell for welcoming money into your life or something?” he asked to no one in particular.

Calliope’s nod caught the first officer’s eye and he turned back to the cat.

“So you _can_ understand all humans? Not just Martin, I mean,” he asked.

The cat nodded again.

Douglas thought he was crazy to be having a one-sided conversation with a cat, but he was so far into the world of witches and Faes that he decided that ‘normal’ could sod off at this point. “But he’s the only one who can understand you…” the gallant first officer asked of the cat.

Calliope recognized the question to be rhetoric, yet answered with a little shrug before she opened her mouth…

… And words came out in plain English, “I can open up my communication to others if I want…” she noticed that Douglas’s eyes widened considerably and chuckled, “… but I’ve found that not all humans get used to the idea of a talking animal.”

Douglas gulped before continue with the conversation he was now having… with a _cat_ , “So… becoming a witch you just get used to the idea?”

Calliope nodded, “And when you marry into a witch family, if you’re not a witch, you certainly _must_ get used to it.”

“So why are you speaking to me, then?” Douglas asked almost bitterly.

Calliope smiled, and Douglas immediately wanted to know why. But he caught himself before he asked. Calliope was forced to speak instead:

“To pass the time. You won’t want me to be speaking to you when you can just speak to Martin, but while he’s sleeping, I thought you might want conversation as well as companionship.”

Douglas absorbed her words for a moment before he nodded, “Actually, I’d rather settle something… I want to know how you finally came to Martin. Why did his Path come so late? And… I am curious about _you_ , Calliope. I know Martin certainly comes from a Family Legacy where he thought he failed, but you… you either knew he would finally be chosen or… I actually don’t _know_.”

Calliope smiled slightly. “My tale is a sad one. Martin’s is as well, to a certain degree. Sometimes, though, not knowing is better than knowing and growing impatient. Martin and I both lived a little beyond our Path…”

Douglas nodded, “So… how did _you_ begin. And how did Martin’s path find you? And how did you find Martin?”

Calliope smiled, “A story then. To answer all your questions at once.”

_It started in a little farmhouse near the Welsh border…_


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO

_It started in a little farmhouse near the Welsh border. That’s where my siblings and I were born, anyway. I was the youngest, a runt. So I was always underfed and under appreciated. I guess that’s why the Paths chose me to be Martin’s familiar. Because I knew what it was like to be the youngest, what it was like to think that I was worthless because there were two, or rather in my case, seven, others before me._

_And I knew my sisters and brothers mattered more because when the village children came to play with us, they always played with the others. No one wanted me. Even when we were all ready to leave Mama to go with some of those children and live in there homes and chase their mice and drink their milk and so on, I was left and no one came for me. Mama kept telling me that I would go to someone, but it never happened._

_Soon Mama died, and a fox found her body out in woods, so I couldn’t say goodbye. Our father, we were told, was just passing by on the night of my siblings and my conceiving, so I didn’t really care for him._

_I left that place. I left it for the first city I could find. Like I said, I grew up on a farm near the Welsh border, and I was small enough to leave unnoticed. I chose a direction and stuck to it, until I found myself in a city that was a lot like Fitton here. I never knew the name because I never learned to read. I was a farm cat, what use had I for reading? It wouldn’t be until I met up with Martin’s Path that I would know how to read. I had to learn, for Martin’s sake._

_When I got to the city I had a grand old time. It was a port city, so I hung out on the ships and was sometimes taken for a ride or two. The sailors all thought I was a charming young cat, and I must admit I enjoyed being around humans more than I liked being around other cats. I tried being an alley cat my first few nights but it wasn’t for me, all the fighting and random hook ups gave me a fright. I stuck to the ships after that. Made a few trips to some Scottish Isles and even made a trip on a yacht to London and back unnoticed._

_But there was always something missing, I think. I was only nine months old when I got to the city, so I thought perhaps I was just pining for a real kittenhood or something. It wasn’t until I turned one year old that I realized there was something missing in my very soul. Nothing like good memories from a kittenhood I just wasn’t meant to have…_

_I was missing a certain connection with the sailors I had met. I was missing a connection I could never have with those children back at the village of my birth. I guess I was missing a connection with a human witch._

_A few months after my birthday I found a small attic to live in and watched over the city in the daytime. Sometimes at night I would go out and catch mice by myself, and sometimes I found myself on a fishing boat where I would get free fish because… well, I was a charming young cat, like I said. Clever and charming are two traits that, when put hand in hand, have a way of getting a creature a certain edge in life._

_One night, however, I fell asleep right after bringing home a fat tuna and eating it whole. I was so satiated that I fell into a deep sleep._

_I never dreamed before that night, in all my one year. Or I never remembered the dreams I did have when I awoke. But that night, I had a dream I could not shake off, and I knew it was an important one._

_It wasn’t a dream at all, actually. The Path of any young witch comes to the familiar in dreams, and the familiar cannot help but remember them. I awoke in this dream in a meadow, though the flowers looked more like blue, white, and green blobs than actual flowers, which is how I knew I was dreaming._

_But the voices I heard all around me! I felt like I was at a trial with lawyers and judges, but I couldn’t see the men and women’s faces as they argued._

_“No, Path of Electricity! You’ve already chosen his eldest brother! Step down! You too, Path of Plants!” yelled a booming female voice. Okay, they all had booming voices. But that one was female._

_“Path of Healing, we’re putting you under consideration because of the Honorable Matriarch Angelina Crieff!” a male said, and if he had a physical body would have been pointing at the Path of Healing, whatever gender he or she happened to be._

_“Order! Order! He’s turned 24, failed his first two CPLs, and we’re still fighting over which one of us will be his chosen Path! Can we please come to order!”_

_… And so on. I had no clue what was going on at the time, and I was getting tired of the booming voices of the disembodied ‘Paths’ as they kept calling themselves._

_My vision was straying from the surroundings, and I knew I was going to wake up at any moment. Instead of listening to the arguing voices, my eye caught a movement in the blobby grass. There was a mouse there, clear as day, and not blob-like like the flowers all around us. I decided I would catch him._

_Well, I pounced and caught him, but it looked like he had actually_ wanted _to be caught, because he only squeaked when my claws came very close to ripping out his insides._

_“Stop!” he shrieked._

_I blinked at him, retracting my claws from him. He blinked up at me with big dark eyes before he said, “You’re wondering why you’re here.”_

_“Damn right I am,” I replied. Life among the sailors made me a bit sharp tongued._

_“Those are the Witches’ Paths,” said the mouse, pointing with a tiny hand out where the voices were still arguing._

_“And?” I asked._

_“You’re a familiar to the youngest Crieff. They’re the most famous Clan of witches in these parts…”_

_I absorbed this, “They can’t figure out which Path this child will be handed,” I guessed, and the mouse nodded, wiggling out of my grasp._

_“But once they’ve stopped their arguing and have chosen one of themselves for young Martin Crieff, that Path will come to you and ask that you take him or her to young Mr. Crieff.”_

_I thought long and hard for what seemed like a few hours. The mouse was on the ground, trembling in anticipation and creeping me out with those wide black eyes. Finally I said, “He’s a runt, isn’t he?”_

_“His family sure thinks so. ‘Cept the Matriarch. She understands what a popular kid her youngest is,” replied the mouse._

_“It must be heartbreaking to think he’s failed his family all these years. He’s 24 years old now, isn’t he,” it was a rhetorical question. “Poor thing.”_

_“Yes, poor thing,” the mouse replied, suddenly looking over at the general area of the bickering, old-sounding Paths._

“Was that when you went to go find Martin?” Douglas interrupted.

Calli chuckled, “Martin was only 24. We just met six months ago when he was _thirty-three_ years of age.”

Douglas thought about this for a moment, calculating. “He had to wait _nine_ more years for the Paths to finally choose the Path of Communication for him?”

Calliope nodded, moving so she was lying down with her front paws under her and front still facing the elder pilot.

“Then you must be… ten years old. Old for a cat, I guess…” Douglas pointed out.

“Not old for a familiar. The Goddess put me on earth because she knew that Martin would get no other animal but me. And she knew her Paths would all want Martin to follow them, and so the decision process would take a bit more time. Besides… I was comatose for about six of those nine years of waiting…”

Douglas’s eyebrow rose at this. “I guess I’m in for some more story. But what, for three years, could you have been doing, and why did it put you in a coma?”

Calliope sighed sadly then, her initial mysterious smile gone. “I had a family, and then I lost them…”

The other eyebrow joined its mate on Douglas’s brow. “Oh,” he said. Then, “Carry on, then…”

Calliope nodded, gathering her thoughts for the final installment in her story.


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE

_As I woke up, the Paths were still arguing. I was in my little attic once more, and the sun was rather high on the horizon, signaling the late morning._

_I needed to move on from that city, and I did. I came to downtown Fitton, where I met and fell for one Ares, a fine, sleek male, destined to be another’s familiar, a Crieff cousin who has long since left this town. He was charismatic, kind, and very smart. He was the one named me after his namesake’s wife Calliope, thinking we were destined to be together forever. But after one night of passion, he had to leave to give his human’s chosen Path and stay with him forever._

_I woke alone, and in my bones I had a feeling I was pregnant with his children, and I was correct. In the earlier months of my pregnancy I moved around to different parts of the city, trying to find somewhere for my kittens to thrive. Everything seemed dangerous and damp, though, and I finally gave up in the latter months. There I was, weary and knowing that I would be birthing soon, when I stumbled into the sewers and lay down my bones. I lay there for a month, hardly eating or sleeping, breathing hard as I felt the pains. I cried out, but no one came. I managed to catch a sick rat down there, but I had no taste for him and threw half his carcass into the dark waters beyond._

_The day of the birthing, I was down and out, relying only on my body to do the work while my mind went elsewhere. I was suddenly wondering about Martin, here, what a partnership would look like. My children would probably be away from the nest by then, my duties as mother over. I would never fall prey to another male again, I decided. Homosexuality is found in all kinds of species, and I was contemplating trying it later in my life, I confess. I still do to this day._

_I was not to be a mother very long, apparently, for a nasty storm raged on the surface, and the rainwater made the sewers flood. My last kitten had been birthed, and I was just opening my eyes to look at them and clean them of my fluids. I would not get the chance, as a giant wave of water swept down our canal and took them away, drowning them. I went with them and tried to salvage as many of my newborn children as I could, but I was weak, and so I had to stop and let the water take me. I went under, and thought myself dead. I was down and out for the longest time, until some supernatural being found me and placed me in the care of Angelina Crieff, who did her best to revive me._

_She did her best, of course, but rest was all I needed to get over all the stress that I had been through. The loss of my kittens was a blow, for I knew they were all dead; I even felt them leave this world._

_Someone visited me in my comatose state: Mrs. Crieff could traverse dreams sometimes. She told me stories of the supernatural world, and the history of the Crieff clan. There were so many wonderful tales of Martin’s ancestors. His grandfather was in the British Army as a Healer… well, his maternal grandfather was. His paternal grandfather was leery of human beings and sequestered his Fae clan far into the forest. He wasn’t married at the time, but when a beautiful, smart, and talented young woman trespassed into his forests, he decided human kind wasn’t so bad. That woman was Martin’s grandmother, hence the half-Fae blood that went through Peter Crieff’s veins._

_Anyway, I was in that coma for six years, and toward the tail end of it, when I finally woke up, I felt rejuvenated. When I awoke, Angelina and I spent our evenings going through Martin’s old things. She told me everything about Martin’s childhood and his experiences with the Crieff Family Legacy. He certainly was crushed when his Path never came to him, and so went off to be a pilot, which he had wanted to be since he was six. It was another three years before Martin’s Path would come to me, and I spent those three years delving into the life of my human._

_Did you know, when he was seven he had a run-in with a rogue Gwyllion while camping in Wales? Oh, right. Gwyllion are fairies that can turn into goats. We have much to teach you, Douglas Richardson. This particular Gwyllion had run away from home and was so angry that it turned into its fairy form in front of dear little Martin when it learned that Martin could see Faes and the like. Simon and Angelina went to his rescue as he was frozen to the spot, the dear thing!_

_After three years of Martin’s history, I knew everything about him, and I was longing to finally meet the man he had become. Angelina didn’t know much about her son now that he was away from home in Fitton. When I learned he was in Fitton, I was crushed, because I had been so close yet so far from him. I began to yearn for him like he was my own child!_

_Finally, the Dream returned._

_In the blobby meadow a beautiful old woman who told me she was the Path of Communication, who had won against all odds the place as Martin’s Path, met me. I felt her presence tingle within me, and I woke up. Angelina was by my bedside, and it was like she knew. She nodded at me, gave me the address of Martin’s apartment here, and warned me against the state of the place. Then she did a protection spell for my journey and watched me leave. I got here to Martin’s apartment early the next morning, and our journey together finally began._

_*****_

Douglas was quiet for a time as the story of Calliope Darkfur sunk in.

“I’m sorry about the loss of your children,” he finally said.

“Oh, don’t be,” Calli replied, “Martin’s my child now. My gangly-limbed, prissy, ginger-furred, idiot of a child. And my best friend.”

Douglas laughed aloud at this, waking Martin from his sleep. The redheaded pilot was groggy as he sat up, looking first at Calli, and then at Douglas. He was startled at the latter’s presence. “What are you still doing here, Douglas?”

“Calliope was telling me her life’s story, weren’t you, Ms. Darkfur?” Douglas asked.

But Calliope had closed her communication with Douglas and was purring slightly, sitting like a goddess with her tail over her paws and her eyes closed. She opened her eyes only to give Douglas a bit of a wink before her eyes closed again.

“Interesting story, that one,” Martin replied, putting his hand behind his head, “Oh, my hair’s standing all on end…”

Douglas turned from Calli’s strange gesture to his captain. He chuckled, “It suits you. You ought to let your hair down more often, _captain_.”

Martin blushed, but Douglas attributed it to the fever. “Douglas, honestly, I’ll be fine. My mother will be here in a couple of hours… and… hold on a minute,” he checked his watch (the ‘genuine’ Patek Phillipe), “It’s about one in the morning… you should get home to bed. You have a job in a day and you better be well-rested for it…”

“Of course, you’re not allowed on that flight, Carolyn’s orders…” Douglas quipped.

“Douglas, I’m worried about your health,” Martin replied, but before he could go on, Douglas replied with, “And I’m worried about _your_ health.”

Martin looked to Calli, who was still calmly sitting there on the bed between them with her eyes closed, facing the one window behind Martin. “Calliope will make sure I don’t die before Mum comes with her medicines…”

Douglas was pensive, but he nodded, patting Martin’s hand and hissing, “If you die, though, I’m not blaming Calliope…”

“N-N-Noted,” Martin stuttered, pulling his hand back and flushing deeper.

Douglas put a hand on the other man’s forehead, gave a pensive look to him, and then turned to Calliope, “Watch over him, Calliope.”

Before he left, he turned back to Martin’s familiar, “And thanks for the story. Get some more rest, Martin.”

When he left, Martin glanced at Calliope, who had opened her eyes. “He really does care about you, you know,” she said softly, a slight, amused purr in her throat.

“You didn’t tell him about the Gwyllion, did you?” Martin asked.

Calliope shrugged, “It’s an adorable story.”

“Calli!” Martin whined.

Calliope leaped off the bed on to the windowsill, “Get some more sleep, Martin. You can tell him about the vampire in the attic at a later time. Or when we successfully Communicated to that band of gnomes to lay off Mrs. Gerkin’s property. Or any of the other successes we’ve had in the last six months we’ve been together…”

Martin knew he shouldn’t argue, especially when his brain was super fuzzy, so he only lay back down, and was fast asleep in a matter of minutes.

Calliope turned so that she was looking out the window, and sighed. Telling her life story always made her contemplate the future. Now that she was with Martin, she felt whole, complete. Nothing she had done in her past had made her feel quite like she did when she was sitting on Martin’s windowsill, her attention split between Martin’s sleeping form and the world outside Parkside Terrace, watching the rain against the window or the wind in the trees beyond. A small smile traversed her lips as she decided that she didn’t need a mate or kittens, or a small child to care for her, or even a happy kittenhood. She had a Path, and a witch, and her witch had a life in the air and a life as the only Communicator in his Family Legacy. Martin and Calliope only needed each other to have a complete life… and now, more than ever, Calliope needed Martin more than Martin had needed proof that he wasn’t a failure to his family. They had nothing but the future now. What that entailed, Calliope couldn’t be sure, but she was sure there would be more Communication, more flying, more Douglas, more Arthur, more Carolyn, and more magic. Definitely more magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Completed.
> 
> Please don't hesitate to tell me what you would like to see in future stories in this series. I will take requests as well as going through with my own ideas. -GF


End file.
